The Life of Lady Liberty
by annie1994
Summary: Amelia Felicia Jones is the personification of the United States of America. She's proud, a bit hard headed, and has a temper that can easily turn towards the worse. A motorcycle crash is what it takes to make her reevaluate her entire life. ((Story may be revised and changed several times while I am writing. AmeliaXOC. Adrian Chevalier belongs to ask-mattie-williams.))
1. Introduction

The Life of Lady Liberty

Intro

Amelia cursed herself as she was thrown through the air, the fresh pain of a broken arm and what she assumed were several shattered ribs ringing through her body as the woman soared. The thought _'Please let me live' _never came to her. Of course she'd live. She was the personification of the United States of America. Like all nations she could live through a simple motorcycle accident. Getting t-boned by some asshole that was too drunk to pay attention to where he was driving his Bentley was no big deal. The woman wondered vaguely as she flew if she'd be in a coma this time, guessing by the height she was soaring and the speed she was going that she most likely would.

The woman watched the asphalt soar up to meet her with a bit of boredom, knowing that it would hurt a great deal when she woke up from this. A small smirk came to the blonde's face as she remembered in the back of her mind the time in the Mexican-American war where a bomb went off nearby her and sent her and her left arm flying in two separate directions. Much worse had happened to her on many, many occasions. This would be nothing. Thanking the fact she was wearing a helmet before everything went black; and her unconscious drifted back to her beginnings.


	2. The Orphanage

Chapter 1

The Orphanage

The blonde woman recognized this place. In the very depths of her memory and soul she remembered this place. Taking off her dented and banged up motorcycle helmet slowly Amelia shook her in disbelief—staring at her younger self that was staring out of a window. Sitting down on the scuffed up wooden floor she watched with interest, as she met her father for the first time.

Felicia didn't know why she was different. She knew she had been in the building the longest out of all of the children and yet she appeared to be one of the youngest. Watching the angry woman who had found her scream and shout at the other children for not picking up enough, the toddler hugged the makeshift doll she had made out of cornhusks, looking out the window and watching a blonde man with shaggy hair and emerald eyes come striding to the house and knocking on the door with a certain air of authority and business she couldn't place.

Seeing the nice and neat way he was dressed, seeing the way he held himself she could tell he wasn't from there. She hadn't been off the property much but she knew that he was very different from her and her "siblings". He seemed much more grand and for some reason she couldn't describe she felt a certain affinity she could not place towards the man. Hiding behind a chair when the owner of the orphanage led him in and greeted him with the false happiness and politeness she gave any grown-up who came in. Felicia didn't understand why. It was almost like the woman _wanted _the people who came in to take away a child. She didn't understand why. It was sad when someone left. That being said she herself wanted to leave in the deepest part of her. To find a king and queen to make her their little princess, to one day have a dashing prince come in and save her.

One of the older boys bushed her down and ran towards the man for attention, as if he too was trying to leave, soon enough looking dejected the boy ran back, snatching up the corn husk doll as if it was a consolation prize.. Looking up teary eyed the girl watched the man walk over and kneel in front of her, gently picking her up onto her feet.

The man smiled at the girl and handed her the doll, taking in her dirty clothes, her tangled hair, her shyness. "Hello there love… my name is Arthur Kirkland. What is your name?" the man had come there for a reason. He had heard reports of a child that wouldn't age living in an orphanage. The man knew what that meant. Either people were lying, or there was a personification of these new colonies of his. The man had checked with the woman who ran the orphanage and his suspicions were right. When he asked about a child not growing he was immediately pointed to the small girl in the corner, told that he could have her for free if he'd just get her off the woman's hands. A bit disappointed about the state of this building and the people who resided within it. The boarding on the outside was rotten and moldy, falling off of the place. The children were dirty and ragged but he found solace that there were no marks of neglect or abuse on them. All of them fed well enough and aside from the occasional scraped knee and bruised elbow, all were fine.

Looking up at the man, a bit nervous, as she now had no thing to hug and hide behind. The small girl stared at him for a while before speaking. "The lady calls me Felicia but I don't like it… I wanna be something else…" fiddling with the hem of her ratty dress before looking up at him, "I like Amelia better but the lady said that—that it's not my Christian name…"

Arthur smiled at her gently, "Well Amelia I have a proposal for you. Would you like to come home and live with me? I won't call you Felicia if you don't want me too and I've got a room just for you at our house." Smiling when she began to grin from ear to ear and hug him tightly, standing he picked up the girl with him, resting her on his hip as he carried her out of the house. Arthur nodded and thanked the woman who ran the orphanage, making a mental note to donate some money to the place later.

On the way home he stopped by a dress shop, having Amelia look at all of the dresses and order what she wanted. Arthur made sure to put a rush order on everything before taking the girl back to his house. Bathing her and dressing her in one of his shirts as a makeshift dress he explained to her the best he could about their existence. They each represented land. He, the country of England and she, the American Colonies. He explained that they lived much longer and aged much, much slower than humans. He explained that they healed faster; he explained everything he could without overwhelming the small child. Pleased with how well she took everything he patted her head "Is there anything you want to ask me love? It'll be just us here… but I'll make sure you love it here I promise."

"Does this make you my Daddy?" seeing the strange look that grew on her new guardian's face she immediately shrank within herself, "I'm sorry—I was just curious Mister Arthur— The lady said that if someone took us home with them it meant they were our Mommy and Daddy, 'cept you don't have a wife so that makes it that you're my Daddy right?"

Shocked the man stared at the girl before him for a little bit. Feeling a strange overwhelming sensation fill up within his chest. He wanted to protect this small girl. Keep her shielded from any sort of harm that could befall her. Make sure not one person in the world made her cry. Give her anything she wanted. "If you want to me to be your Daddy…" hugging the little girl to comfort her he kissed her forehead "You don't have to call me Arthur. I can be your Daddy. I hope you don't mind not having any siblings though… I don't have any other children." Running a hand through her hair and smiling at her "But that does mean that we'll have lots and lots of time to play with each other if you'd like that." Laughing as she hugged him tightly and chanted yes over and over, guessing that his new daughter was just happy to finally have some individual attention for once. Glad at the ability to make the girl so happy he laughed as well, hugging her and holding her close.

Amelia watched this all unfold with a certain bitter sweetness. She had forgotten all of this. The woman wished she could tell her younger self to appreciate what she and her father had at the moment but knew she was too young to truly understand the momentous importance of all of this. What she truly was and what her father truly were. The next few days and months were a blur of dresses, toys, and the two getting closer and closer as her full grown self sat and watched with interest and pain almost. They used to be like this. They used to be close—now they had drifted so far apart she couldn't recall the last time she had even called him "Dad". Watching with a strange detached interest as the scene faded to black.


	3. The Mayflower

Amelia stared in awe at the sight before her, standing on the top of a large rock despite her father's protest. She could barely make out the strange thing that was coming towards the bay on the large body of salty water called the Atlantic Ocean. It seemed like the canoes the Native people used only much, much larger and with a strange white blanket propped up on it. "Daddy? Why is there a big canoe with a blanket on it?"

An older version of her sitting down on the craggy shore, finally permitting herself to watch all of these memories. Doing the math in her head, she had been with her father for about fourteen years now and she only looked about five. That made it about 1620 right? Wincing a bit as she watched the scene. She couldn't really remember why she was here? She'd say time travel but that didn't exist and her past self or even her father couldn't see her. The woman had been sailing through a gray haze for what seemed like hours now—occasionally things cleared up enough and she'd see a scene from her younger life like this. Laying down and trying to relax she sighed, allowing the scene to play on without her paying too much attention at the moment.

The Englishman sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "That's a ship Amelia. It's carrying a bunch of new people who are coming to settle here. If I'm right it's called the Mayflower." Climbing onto the rock and scooping her up, the man carried her down to the beach where they watched people leave the ship and get into small boats to start their way to shore. He looked at the small child in his arms and smiled, Amelia had been living with him for quite a few years now and she still looked just as young as the day he took her home. Arthur didn't mind that in the slightest, the blonde had other colonies for certain but he had never had a child before. Never had someone to call his own daughter. Staring back at the large expanse aqua body of water that was in front of both personifications he wondered about that fact. Wondered why he was so attached to a child that wasn't technically his. One that he could almost certainly expect to rebel against him one day. It wasn't a thought he liked to think about but he knew how it worked with colonies, eventually they all desired freedom and sought it out any way they could.

Patting her fathers face gently Amelia stared at him with deep blue eyes. "Are you alright Daddy? You look sad." The American child smushed his cheeks together with her small hands, "Don't be sad! More people are coming and that's good right? That means we get more playmates!" Giggling when he patted her head and kissed her cheek the girl squirmed out of her father's grasp so she could climb up to the top of a rock on the beach, displaying her strange tendency to go up as high as she could once again. Amelia made sure to stay within sight of him if only to avoid getting yelled at.

Arthur stared back out at the sea, reminded of his still somewhat recent days at sea. Taking a deep breath of the salty air somehow always managed to clear his senses to a finer point. The man thought back to why he was so attached to the small child. He could think of several reasons for it all, all being just as valid as the next. The Englishman didn't like to admit it but he was a bit lonelier than he wished he was, being a strong empire had its perks but spending all of your time conquering made you quite a few enemies. Another being the relationship he had with his family. They fought and sparred, he loved his brothers but they never seemed to get along well. He didn't want to think about his mother—the woman who had raised him and somehow disappeared without a trace one day.

Shaking his head, coming to his senses as a particularly large spray of mist came upon him when a wave crashed against the shore. Arthur wiped his now extremely moist face and shook his head once more to clear his thoughts. Why he was attached to his daughter didn't matter in the slightest. What mattered was that he was happy. That he was making his daughter happy. Scooping her up once more and starting back too their house. "What do you think about I make us something nice and warm for dinner? I can make us some soup if you want!"

Amelia faked a large grin; she had been living under Arthur's care for years and knew quite well how his cooking was. "Okay! That sounds yummy Daddy~ Can we have chicken soup?" afraid to tell him how she really felt about his cooking, remembering how he reacted the first time she did. He seemed so sad—she had to tell him that she was joking and ask for double servings to make him believe that she really did like it. The girl didn't like lying to her father but she loved the man way too much to make him sad.

Their dinner together was nothing out of the ordinary, Amelia doing her best to choke down her food without complaint, asking Arthur to tell her about what it was like over at his home across the ocean, telling him about what she and her imaginary friends did that day—not noticing the look of amusement on his face. The very imaginary friends she was speaking of, a flying mint colored rabbit, fairies, unicorns and a Pegasus were very much real. They were his friends as well. When both blonde nations were finished with their meal Arthur began to clean up, instructing Amelia to go and get dressed for bed.

The small girl ran towards her bedroom, rummaging through her large oak chest of drawers for her nightgown. Amelia's bedroom was much nicer than most children—The walls were a light blue color, with dark blue flowers painted along the top. With matching oak furniture and a relatively large bed that always had crisp white sheets she was much more comfortable than she was at the orphanage. Barely remembering the days when she shared a cot with two other children. When baths and new clothes were rare. She had traded in threadbare dresses in for white, lacy ones. Dirty, calloused bare feet in for wearing black ones that she had learned to lace all on her own. (Something she was very proud of thank you very much). She felt so spoiled. Arthur gave her gifts and treats when she had been nice, given her a birthday when he realized that she didn't have one (They had decided that her birthday being on New Year would work out easiest for everyone). Even if he hadn't given her these things she would still be happy. It was the way he played with her. The way he called her his princess. The way he had tea parties with her. The way he let her put makeup on him and do his hair. She was truly happy. No one had ever really hurt her at the orphanage but they hadn't treated her exactly with kindness either. She was considered an anomaly. A strange child who couldn't grow up.

Arthur came in and tucked in his daughter, reading her a bedtime story about King Arthur, making sure to use different voices that she liked. The Englishman kissed her forehead and made sure once more that she was tucked in and surrounded by all of her dolls and stuffed animals like she liked to be. Being extra careful with the cornhusk doll they had managed to preserve since she came here. "Goodnight Love. I'll see you in the morning alright?" Leaving the room and snuffing out the candle on her nightstand, keeping the door cracked open just in case.

She didn't sleep well that night. Having a strange dream. Monsters and demons chasing her through a field—a large shadowy hand following her, reaching for her as she sprinted. Amelia shot up in bed the second it grabbed her, feeling hot tears stream down her face. "Daddy-!" crawling out of bed and taking her favorite doll with her to his room as she crawled into bed with him, snuggling up to the man like she always did when she had a nightmare. "Daddy I had a bad dream—"

Groaning, waking up slowly he wrapped a comforting arm around his daughter, "It's alright… I'm right here…" kissing her head and cooing her softly as she cried. "Daddy's right here… I've got you…" Arthur sighed a bit, this was happening more and more often as she got older. He wondered why—he was almost certain he was keeping her from scary stories. Maybe it was just something all children went through he wasn't sure. She was his first child, he had no experience in this. The man also wondered if her humor was out of balance. The four biles had a way of being very finicky in children. Making a mental note to give her some medicine in the morning to try and balance it out he rubbed her back to try and get her to sleep once more. "Go back to sleep Amelia… Daddy loves you." He tried to control the smiled on his face when she looked up at him sleepily and said that she too loved him.


	4. Mr Jamie

_The Canadian man smiled at his sister when he sat down by her hospital bed, almost trying to be brave even though he was certain she couldn't see him. He hated to admit it but she looked like hell. There were patches of skin that were missing from her skidding along the rode, her arm was in a cast, the doctors had shoved a feeding tube down her throat to keep her alive… she didn't look like the Amelia he knew. She didn't look like the sister he loved._

_ Comforted in the fact that she would at least be alright from all of this—a coma for a nation was more like a long sleep where they healed from all of their wounds. She would be alright. Matthew reached out and took her hand, surprised at how cold she felt, holding it tight in his own as a few tears began to stream down his face—his own mind going back to when they were little. Speaking softly, almost as if he didn't want to wake her from this slumber. "Do you remember the time I broke your doll Amelia…?"_

* * *

Matthew nearly cried then and there when the cornhusk doll crumbled in his hands. He hadn't meant to break his sister's favorite toy but when he grabbed the doll too hard it seemed to disintagrate in his hands. Lip trembling and eyes watering up at the thought of his new sister getting mad at him for this. He had just moved into the house a few weeks ago and they were doing so well, they were becoming such great friends. The physically five-year-old boy scrambled for what to do, definitely crying when his sister walked into the room. "Amelia-! I'm sorry I didn't mean too! She just broke when I grabbed her!"

Staring at the small pile of cornhusks in her brothers hands she walked up to it slowly, taking what she could without letting most of the remains flutter to the floor in a pale tannish yellow pile. "Miss Elizabeth…" biting her lip—she could remember making the doll herself many years before. Any anger that welled up inside of her chest disappeared when she looked at her brother, seeing him already crying over this. He seemed so upset over breaking something that wasn't even his. She didn't really understand it. Was he afraid of getting in trouble? She was almost certain Arthur wouldn't yell at him for this—it was an accident after all. Though she couldn't be certain, she had broken a vase on accident once and he had certainly yelled at her for that. Amelia shook her head, trying to collect her thoughts. Matthew and her had decided that she was the big sister (this was decided solely on the fact that she was taller than the boy) so she was supposed to make sure he was happy and didn't cry right? "It's alright… please don't cry…" letting her doll's remains flutter the ground as she dropped everything to hug him tightly, rubbing his back like Arthur did to her when she was upset. She really didn't know what to do to make him feel better and that it was alright, eventually settling on kissing his cheek and holding his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

Several weeks passed until their first birthday together, snow settling down on the house on the wintery New Years Eve Arthur had proclaimed as their birthday. Matthew had been particularly reclusive, holing up in his room to work on a surprise he refused to tell Amelia about. Holding behind his back was the fruit of all of his efforts, a patchwork rabbit doll. The thing was made of different fabrics he had managed to scrounge up from the neighbor women, none matching in the slightest. It was horribly lopsided—one button eye large than the other, one ear crooked and almost twice as large as its partner. It was not a pretty rabbit, but he hoped that she liked it all the same—his small fingers hurt from sewing, red pinpricks on his thumbs from where the needle had pierced his skin. Matthew handed her the doll after she had given him a drawing of the two of them, watching nervously as she stared at it. "Do you… do you like it Amelia?"

The girl nodded slowly, taking the soft thing from him and holding it in her arms. She didn't see the lopsided ears and eyes. She didn't see the mismatched fabric or the stitching made very much apparent by the bright yellow thread on the predominantly blue colored rabbit. Amelia saw the hours of effort he put into it, even in her child mind she could see that. Hugging her brother tightly she kissed his cheek multiple times, smiling at him as she let go to squeeze the rabbit in her arms. "I love him Mattie! He's beautiful~!" giggling a bit as she looked at him "What's his name? I want to name him after you!" staring at the doll for a bit, sticking her tongue out as she thought. She couldn't name him Matthew—that would just be silly. There couldn't be two Mattie's! They wouldn't be able to keep things straight in the house. Looking up at her brother in concentration, remembering that his middle name was James. Was Mr. James a good name? It seemed a bit formal for her tastes. "Oh! I got it! I'll call him Mr. Jamie!" bouncing up and down in excitement as her brother stared at her a bit confused as how she got Mr. Jamie from Matthew. Laughing the girl hugged her brother again; blonde curls fluttering as she knocked him over and onto the ground, Arthur's warnings to be more careful sounding out from the other room.

* * *

_Matthew giggled softly through his tears, holding onto her hand tightly. "Remember that? I still can't believe you made him last for a whole century before your kids tore him apart… and I made you a new one didn't I? I've made you a few new Mr. Jamie's. I'm sorry they're all so ugly…" wiping his tears away on his sleeve. "You should wake up soon okay? You've been out for a few days now and we miss you… I know you'll be okay but we still miss you…" _


	5. Whiskey and Broken Arms

Amelia didn't like that last memory. Watching herself tackle her brother when they were children was cute but she could almost hear Matthew as an adult in the back of her mind—feel him holding her hand. That memory didn't feel like it came to her naturally—it felt like someone was bringing it to her on their own. She didn't like this. Sighing she pinched the bridge of her nose, why was this happening? Why did she have to go through all of these memories again? Why was she going through these memories again? This was more than three and a half centuries ago—while she was still a colony. What use were these memories. Looking up when she heard her younger brother as a child screaming, instinctively wanting to protect him. Soon enough she relaxed as a small smile made its way onto her face, realizing what this memory was.

"Amelia! Get down-! Dad's going to get mad! You're going to get hurt!" Matthew stared up at her from the ground in absolute terror, his older sister had scaled the house at the sight of a cat meowing on the roof. Unable to react in time when she declared she'd save the animal and help it down.

Amelia looked down at her brother in mild annoyance, how did he not have faith in her about this? "I'm fine Mattie! I'm the hero remember? The hero never gets hurt. Calm down it'll be fine." Ignoring her brother's pleas to get down she reached out for the tabby on the edge of the roof, shocked when it jumped off and she teetered over the edge for a suspense filled moment before losing her balance and falling off the two story house she called her home. Shrieking as she fell, trying to catch herself on something as her arms flailed about, hearing a large crack when she hit the ground.

Doing the laundry in the other yard, thinking about all of the paperwork due and when he had to go back to England, Arthur was broken out of his reverie at the sound of a shriek and an ominous cracking sound—followed by the wailing of his two children. Dropping everything he ran over, finding Amelia holding her left arm close to her while Matthew was sobbing wildly. "What the—what happened?" crouching down beside her he took away her hand gently, letting out a soft gasp as he saw his daughter's arm bent in such a horrible angle. Lifting her up immediately and taking Matthew by the hand to take Amelia to the doctor Arthur led the two wailing children through the town, trying to get them to calm down the best he could as he reached the doctor.

The two children were merely sniveling by the time they reached the town doctor, Matthew clinging to Arthur's hand with both of his while Amelia cried into her Father's shoulder, wondering why the cat was able to fall of the roof and be just fine and she ended up like this. The doctor opened the door and sighed, annoyed already by the two children. "Set the girl down on the table." He strode over to a cabinet and poured a large glass of amber liquid, coming back and handing this to Amelia. "Drink this, you'll feel better."

Arthur stared at it in shock and a mixture of worry, "You're giving her whiskey? Isn't she a bit young—" cutting himself off when he saw her already drinking it the man let out a sigh. "Just fix her bloody arm." The man held his daughter close as the man bent her arm back in place, wincing at her wail of pain. "Keep drinking dear…" lifting Matthew onto the table so he could comfort her as well. Soon enough everything was fixed, with Arthur paying the doctor and carrying his sleepy and confused daughter home making sure Matthew was close behind. Laying her down in bed and tucking her in when they got home, kissing her cheek. "Get some sleep love…" smiling when his son put Mr. Jamie on the bed next to her before climbing into bed with his sister, cuddling up to her like he always did when he was frightened. Both siblings had a habit of sleeping in the other's bed when they were scared or startled.

Listening to his sister babble incoherently for a while before finally falling asleep Matthew held her close, feeling very bad about this. Was he going to get in trouble for not getting her off the roof? He looked up at Arthur and was very much confused when his head was kissed and patted. Watching his father leave he cuddled back up to his sister, falling asleep soon enough as well.

He woke up the next morning a sound he didn't really expect, his sister bending over the rubbish bin and vomiting violently, crying as she did so. Matthew scrambled over to her, calling for Arthur while he held back his sister's curly blonde tresses. "Amelia? Amelia are you okay?" looking up at Arthur in fear for his sister's wellbeing "What's wrong with her? Did falling off the roof make her sick?"

Arthur came running in, sighing when he realized what it was. Rubbing Amelia's back as she vomited and cried, "It's okay love… you'll be alright." Smiling at Matthew reassuringly and patting his head, "She'll be fine. Remember what the doctor gave her so her arm wouldn't hurt? That can make you sick like this the next day. She just needs to sleep and she'll be fine." Lifting up his daughter and passing by the full grown Amelia who was sitting in the bedroom's rocking chair, setting his little girl in bed and tucking her in. "Go back to sleep love. It'll be alright." Ushering Matthew to come with him to leave Amelia alone to sleep, the grown woman watched her former fall asleep—wondering why she was here.


	6. Bullies

Chapter Five

Bullies

Amelia followed her younger self around the town, staring at the girl who she used to be. Trying to guess her age. It was about 1650, which made her around fifty-five right? She couldn't quite remember what year they had found her. Only when Arthur had adopted her in 1606. Shrugging a bit, either way her child self looked about seven or eight at the moment. The blonde scratched her head as she tried to remember (ironically enough) what this memory was about. All she knew that her younger self was walking with a strange amount of anger and purpose, her white dress fluttering as she strode down the street, her plain brown shoes making a rhythmic tacking sound as she walked. Rounding the corner as she and her younger self walked, suddenly remembering. Her eyes widened a bit and she chuckled, this was going to be interesting.

The young girl pointed accusingly at the small group of boys at the end of the alley, "You! Are you the ones that beat up my brother?" fists clenched she stood as tall as she could, staring down each boy with as much anger and hatred she could muster—feeling rage well up inside of her when they laughed at the small girl.

A seemingly older boy came to the front and nodded "You mean that pansy blond? Maybe we did, maybe we didn't. What's it to you little girl." Walking closer to her and pushing her down into a puddle, the other children starting their way towards them both, eager to see the beat down that was about to occur. The other children were not however expecting the little blonde girl to stand up and launch herself at the boy who pushed her, tacking him to the ground and beginning to punch him over and over as hard as she could, "Don't you ever hurt my baby brother you git!" showcasing her extreme strength that was held by most personifications, the girl stood up and picked up the other boy by the collar—throwing him into the same puddle that she had only recently been in.

The older Amelia watched the scene with a strange sense of wonder. She had always been this protective of Mattie? Watching her younger self positively clobber the other boys until almost every one of them had a black eye and a bloody nose she didn't know how to react—thinking back to the time both she and her brother had been captured by North Korean's in the Korean war and she had nearly killed a guard who had tried to harm her brother, going blind with rage. Following her child self back to the home she thought about why she was so protective.

She recalled when Arthur had first introduced her to Mattie—how small and afraid the boy had seemed. At the time she didn't understand his shyness, but now she did. Mattie had been abandoned by his first father and practically pawned off to Arthur. Anyone would be afraid and shy. Amelia could almost remember word for word Arthur explaining to her what happened—she could remember the fear that Arthur would leave her behind as well, anger at Francis for abandoning his own son, and sympathy for her brother. She remembered Arthur telling her that she'd have to help him look after Matthew and make sure he was safe and happy—something she took as like almost a chore at first but soon enough she enjoyed it. The new child in their household made her laugh made her feel much less lonely. None of the children in town quite liked her—she didn't grow up like them. The other children called her a freak almost constantly. Matthew didn't think that. Matthew made her feel normal, made her happy, played with her… she wanted to protect him. Wanted to somehow make sure nothing ever hurt him, whether it was physical or emotional. She was the big sister, she was the protector. Arthur was back in England almost half of the year and when he was there he was so consumed with work that they practically raised themselves either way.

The small blonde girl eventually got home, opening the door quietly and sneaking in so her brother wouldn't notice her—not wanting Matthew to know what she did. Knowing he would immediately get worried about the other boys picking on her now, something she honestly didn't care about. As long as her brother was safe she didn't care what happened to her or who hated her. Unfortunately for her Matthew was waiting by the door, hugging her tightly when he saw her. "Amelia! Where'd you go—Arthur said that we needed to stay together after he left-!" tearing up a bit, whimpering as he held his sister as tightly as he possibly could. Arthur had gone away from England and he had been so scared that Amelia had left him as well. Very afraid of being all alone. Pulling away just enough to look at her, his indigo eyes staring into her navy blue ones. "What happened to you…? How come you're all dirty?"

Amelia stared at her brother, taking in his black eye, the ugly purplish blue bruise on his jaw that was starting to swell up. Smiling at him she put on her best lying face, not wanting him to get upset. "I fell down. Running down the stairs in the town square to come back home and fell down. I'm okay though!" feeling bad about lying but convincing herself that it was worth it to keep Mattie happy. Showing him the small bottle of salve she had bought on the way home "I got something for your bruise! The man at the apothecary said that this should make it go away sooner and make the swelling go down. Sit down and I'll put it on you okay?" taking his arm and leading him to the couch, pushing him down into sitting gently before dabbing on the salve.

The grown woman sat down on the window seat, taking a look around the home. It was a fairly large home for just the two children and Arthur when he came over. Decorated very nicely but still not showy. Apparently personifications had always made a great deal of money. She stared at herself and her brother—watching them interact; smiling to herself softly. Not much had changed. She still babied her brother quite a bit when it came to taking care of him, they still made each other laugh when the other felt like crying. It made her happy. To know that even though they only saw each other a few times a year now that they still got along so well. Almost as well as when they were children.

A sudden wave of loneliness came upon her, she wanted her brother. Not the one before her,_**her**_brother. The one who was her age, the man who had fought with her in so many wars… why was this happening? Why did she have to watch these things over? The last thing she remembered before these memories began to play was a loud screeching sound and pain. Trying to remember more merely gave her a headache. "Mattie…" letting the first tears fall down her cheeks freely before attempting to hold them back. She was a hero right? Hero's didn't show weakness. They persevered through anything. This was probably just a dream. She'd wake up soon next to her boyfriend and would be able to call her brother to talk… everything would be all right.


	7. Haircut

Chapter 6

Haircut

_Arthur sat by Amelia's bed, just staring at the girl that lay within it. As soon as he had heard about the accident he immediately flew in from his home country of England, wanting to make sure his little girl was okay. _

_ She was not._

_ It had been two and a half weeks and she hadn't shown many indications of improvement, her wounds healing yes but she was still as deep into a coma as she was before all of this. Taking a deep breath he surveyed the sterile room, Matthew sitting on the other side of the bed, holding Amelia's hand as he read to her from one of her favorite books—interrupting the story once in a while to make comments. As if she could respond. The Englishman glanced towards the door and surveyed the tall, black haired man talking to Amelia's doctor. He really didn't know how to feel about her boyfriend. He seemed nice enough and he could tell he genuinely loved his daughter but he was still cautious. Besides the man was human. No matter how well their relationship went he would die in the end and leave his little girl broken hearted. _

_ Staring at her for the rest of the day, pondering everything. Soon enough his daughter's boyfriend left—only two visitors allowed to stay the night. It was not until Matthew had fallen deeply asleep by Amelia's bedside that Arthur spoke to her, reaching back deep into his memory for a story to tell her. "Do you remember when I cut your hair Amelia? I forget why we did it… I want to say that you got a piece of candy stuck in it…"_

* * *

Amelia really didn't know how to feel about this. She liked her hair! Why did it have to get cut more? She already cut out all of what had gotten stuck in it. Pouting as Arthur lectured her about this and cut her hair even shorter than it already was—only halfway down her back compared to the other girls who appeared her age who had locks all the way down to the small of their waist. Looking at him curiously when she heard him say a small 'Uh-oh'. "Daddy… why are you saying that…?" looking at the mirror and noticing that he had cut a large chunk of her hair much too short—only inches long. Tearing up a bit as her lip trembled. "My hair…"

The man really didn't know how to fix this—there was a reason he only cut his children's hair in a straight line. Feeling increasingly nervous and guilty as she began to cry, setting down the shears before jogging out of the house to get one the neighbor woman who looked after Amelia and Matthew when he was gone. Coming back with her and explaining the situation, letting her take over. The kind old woman who had been helping with his children for the past twenty years smiled down at Amelia, waving at Matthew who was sitting at his sister's side patiently, holding her hand and trying to calm her down. "Hello sweeties! How are you two?" playing with Amelia's hair a bit while she sniffled, "Amelia, do you like Mattie's hair?"

The girl looked up at the other woman a bit confused, nodding slowly. Of course she liked her brothers hair. It was a pretty pale gold with a nice curl and wave to it. Amelia listened as the woman proposed cutting her hair like Mattie's. Telling her that it would be just a little bit shorter but it would look a lot alike. Shyly consenting to the haircut Amelia allowed the woman to cut her hair, keeping her eyes squeezed shut the entire time. Finally she opened her eyes when it was over, shocked at just how short it really was, several inches shorter than her brother's own hair. A small cowlick at her part towards the front of her hair flicking up. Touching it slowly as her father thanked their neighbor, sending her off before going to the kitchen and starting dinner for all of them.

Matthew didn't quite know what to do at first. He thought it looked cute on her. He thought his bigger sister was always cute. "It looks nice…" petting her hair and smiling a bit, "You talked about how it was always getting tangled right? Now it won't do that anymore!" seeing that she was upset he held her close. "You're still really pretty Amelia… you're always really pretty. Like a princess!" Mattie nuzzled into his sister's shoulder, trying to comfort her. "Please don't cry. It'll grow back soon."

Listening to his son comfort his daughter from the other room, Arthur felt a certain sense of happiness that the two got along. He could remember only what seemed like a few years ago when he was the only friend Amelia had and how she would cry for days when he told her he would need to leave back for his home country. She still got upset when he told her he would leave, as did Mattie, but at least they had each other now, right? Arthur stirred the stew slowly a small smile on his face when he heard Amelia laugh at a joke Matthew told.

Everything would be fine.

* * *

_The Englishman smiled at his daughter, reaching out to play with a strand of her hair, continuing to speak lowly even after he finished telling the story. "You turned out liking it shorter didn't you? Grew it out quite long once or twice but always came back to it short…" taking a deep breath and leaning back in the chair he was sitting in, allowing the strand of golden hair fall out from between his fingers. He thought back to the man who his daughter was dating, smiling softly to himself. He never would have guessed that she would date a French immigrant. Knowing that she never had any prejudice against anyone who came to her country but he always imagined that she would date another country or a full blooded American. Shaking his head and smiling; despite his tentativeness about his daughter's relationship and his fear of his little girl getting hurt he approved of Adrian. He made her happier than he had ever seen her and that was honestly all Arthur wanted for his daughter. Arthur took another deep breath to keep calm, not wanting to get sad or upset around his children. Even if they were asleep. _

_ Matthew listened as his head was lying on the bed, hunched over so he could rest on the bed somewhat and still hold his older sister's hand. Staring at the design on her nails she had done herself, white with red and blue polka dots. Memorizing every detail as their father began to tell another story about raising the two of them he could hear he love and fondness in Arthur's voice. The man's indigo eyes fluttering shut as he listened to his father's soothing voice telling stories, hand only letting go of his sister's when he finally fell asleep._

**((Note from the author; Adrian Chevalier belongs to Nemi at .com. He is her creation entirely and I am only using him with her permission. ))**


	8. King Charles

Amelia walked slowly behind her younger counterpart, letting the beauty of her surroundings sink in. She knew this place. She was in Saint James' Palace—a place she had only gone to a few times in her life as a child when her father took both her to Matthew to England with him. Strolling down the lavish hallway she saw a somewhat familiar figure, eyes widening when she recognized the man. The tall stature, the long curly black hair, the lavish clothes, the mustache that she thought both then and now looked like a hairy black finger—she watched with a strange degree of horror as her physically eight year old self literally ran into the man—the child not paying any attention whatsoever to where she was going. Knowing full and well it would turn out all right but still nervous.

The young girl stared up at the tall man for a moment, taking in what just happened. Who was this? She had seen portraits of him all throughout the palace in her search for her father and her brother. "I'm sorry sir! I didn't see you there." Smiling at him when he got on one knee to be at her level, she curtsied like her father taught her to. "My name is Amelia! What is yours sir?"

Smiling at the young girl in front of him, he had always had a soft spot for children. Bowing to her the best he could on one knee he took the girls hand and kissed the back of it "I am Charles. It is so lovely to meet you Amelia. You must be Arthur's little girl yes? He has a portrait of you and your brother hanging up in his quarters. Are you lost?" Seeing her nod he stood up and took her hand in his own, "Let me lead you to your father alright? I'm sure he is looking for you."

Amelia stared up at him as they walked, the name Charles ringing a bell. Had her father mentioned him before? Come to think of it he looked quite familiar. Shrugging it off she piped up, doing what she normally did as a child (And even as an adult) and not thinking through what she was about to say. "You know—you shouldn't call me a little girl 'cause I'm not! I'm a big girl. I'm going to be eighty soon and that looks like it's a lot older than you Charles~" looking up at him and nodding matter of factly, not understanding why the man next to her chuckled at her words.

Soon enough they found Arthur and Matthew—Amelia releasing her hold on the king's hand and running towards them, hugging Mattie and nearly knocking him over. Arthur looked shocked, immediately getting into a low bow "Your Majesty! I wasn't expecting to see you here." Looking at Amelia almost nervously before looking up at his king and straightening up, "I hope my daughter was on her behavior King Charles."

King Charles nodded, smiling at Arthur. "She was very pleasant, you haven't any need to worry Arthur." Bowing once more to them all, "It was lovely to meet you all. I hope to see you again before you leave back for the New World." Leaving the small family the King strode off—whistling a soft tune.

Amelia looked up at Arthur curiously, still hugging her brother tightly. "Charles is the King? He didn't say that—" shrugging a bit she smushed her brothers cheeks together, giggling along with him when he made a fish face as their father lectured her on wandering off alone.


	9. Paper

Chapter 8

Paper

Amelia stared at the small slip of tan paper with fancy brown inked writing in her hands in confusion, looking up at her father with eyes full of doubt. Her brother peering over her shoulder at the bill as well; both children very, very much confused about what Amelia was holding. The girl spoke up first after a long while of silence "This is money…? How is this money? This is paper. Money is coins Daddy why are you being so silly?" not hearing her older self laugh at the whole situation. Arthur had brought home the new paper money that was going into circulation in her Colony of Massachusetts—remembering very well how revolutionary this idea was to her at her young age. Paper money? It was only the year 1690 and they were already coming out with paper money? What was next, carriages that didn't need horses or stoves that didn't need to be loaded with wood first before they were able to be heated up?

"It's made out of paper so it's more portable! Coins are heavy and this is really light." Sighing a bit internally, he hadn't expected this to be so hard to explain to his children—very much glad when Amelia had finally accepted the change in one of her colonies currency (Although was still very much doubtful that paper of all things could carry as much value as a ten shilling note or more), more so letting the whole subject drop so she and her brother could go outside and play. The man straightened up and sighed, ushering out the two children so he could go and make dinner.

The small, blond, Canadian boy was still curious about the note when they came outside. Gently taking it from Amelia to look at it more closely, "Do you think Daddy was serious when he said this was money? It doesn't look like money… money is supposed to be made out metal right?" still trying to figure it out as Amelia came closer as well, looking over her little brother's shoulder.

"I don't know Mattie… It says that it's worth ten shillings though, so it's got to be worth that right?" shrugging a bit and putting the note back into her pocket, still very much confused about all of this doing her best to shrug it off. "Come on Mattie! Let's go and play before it's time for dinner alright?" taking his hand and dragging him off to go play—the two debating for a small while about what to do before ultimately deciding on playing a quick game of tag before Arthur called them in for what she was fairly sure was going to be another god awful dinner. Sadly enough she was correct. Staring at the stew before her, wondering why it just looked so awful, had her father managed to burn it? Could you even burn stew? The broth was black and her meat that was floating in the stew was quite tough and chewy without much flavor at all. The girl gave her brother a look of anguish, mouthing when Arthur wasn't paying attention that they would need to raid the fruit cellar before bed.

The older Amelia watched her younger self and her brother's younger self choke down the stew the best they could, lying to Arthur and saying that they liked it, both knowing full well how sad and melancholy he became if he thought that they did not like his food. She wondered why even after all of this time she still pretended that she liked her father's awful food when they didn't even get along very well. Hell, she bribed her children to this day to get them to lie and eat his food as well. Amelia brushed one of her golden curls out of her face, still trying to figure all of this out. Why was she seeing all of these things over again? The last thing she remembered was getting on her motorcycle to pick up batteries from the convenience store—next thing she knew she was watching herself as a small personification, grow up all over again.

She had to admit though, she was learning things about herself and her family she hadn't known before—or at least had overlooked. She was learning how hard it was for her father to raise the two of them, something she could relate to. After the revolutionary war personifications of her own thirteen states began to pop up, and she was given them to raise as her own. Being able to see her childhood from a different perspective she was able to realize all of these things. Amelia had figured out that she truly had always been extremely protective of her brother, always defending him even from their own father. Just a little bit prior she had taken the blame for breaking a vase when it was Matthew who did it, she just didn't want her brother to get in trouble. Amelia thought about it, still wondering why she was watching these things all over again, coming up with the timid conclusion that she was watching these for some sort of lesson—not able to think of any other reason as she listened to her younger self and her brother's younger self hound their father about whether or not the paper money was real.


	10. Cold

Chapter 9

Cold

Amelia had thought it was a good idea.

She really, truly had.

The day before it had been raining as hard as it could be and she had decided to go horseback riding- wearing a heavier dress and cloak to stay warm.

Hero's did it all the time in books-

Why couldn't she?

She had gotten home late that night exhausted- greeted by an empty house, not noticing her older self watching intently, knowing full and well how this was going to turn out.

England and France were back in Europe and her brother must have been out getting something from the town last minute. He still hadn't grown out of his habit of being a tad forgetful.

Too tired to change she got into bed and covered up with all of her blankets- the physically 13 year old not even thinking of the ramifications of her actions.

Matthew walked into his sister's room the next morning, "Amelia? Time to wake up! I made breakfas-" noticing her shaking form and walking over to her- shocked to see her in soaking wet clothes. "Amelia? Amelia wake up! Oh lord… please tell me you didn't sleep in your wet clothes again…"

Stirring- feeling fevered and delirious, looking up at her brother through half lidded eyes, "Maybe… Hero's do it in books and they're fine… why can't I be…?" coughing into the crook of her elbow- she had caught another cold, a dreadful one at that. "I'll be fine… I'm the superhero remember…?"

Matthew sighed, "This is real life Amelia- not a book. Of course you'll get sick…" wondering what to do- should he go into town and get a doctor? Deciding against it. England always did that when she was sick and it always resulted in leeching. Something that scared Amelia witless. Wanting to do his best to avoid that (Sure the doctors said that leeching worked but he really could not see how effective putting blood sucking slugs on your body could be) "Go change into your nightshift and housecoat but dry off first. I'll take care of you today." Leaving the room and going into the kitchen- looking around and wondering vaguely what to do to care for her- trying to remember what their fathers had always done.

Grabbing a large bowl of water and a rag, bringing it upstairs and setting it on her nightstand- making her lay down and pressing the damp rag onto her forehead. Leaving once more and making some of her favorite tea and broth so she could get some sort of nourishment into her system. Pausing for a moment before going into the cabinet and getting some leftover medicine that would help restore the inner balance of her four biles- the things that he didn't quite understand but England always insisted that it was what made them sick. Putting some of the medicine in her tea and going upstairs, finding her shivering under several blankets.

Handing her the tea and telling her to drink it- getting even more so she could sweat out the fever. Wondering what he was doing wrong when she seemed to feel just as poorly after she had drunk the tea and the broth. Eventually grabbing her favorite book and sitting in bed next to her- sighing as he felt to heat radiating off of his sister. Reading to her until she fell asleep, resting her head on his shoulder.

Matthew smiled gently at the sight- continuing to read aloud and smiling even more as she heard her talking softly in her sleep- she was having a good dream about the story. Getting to the end and picking up another book, reading to her until the sun set- starting over on whatever book he was on when she awoke several times.

Kissing her forehead once it became quite late, the physically thirteen-year-old boy smiled down at her- she seemed to be getting better. She was still coughing a good bit but she wasn't as hot as before. Speaking quietly as to not wake her up "I love you Amelia, rest well please- I'll take care of you in the morrow. Walking out of the room and feeling his heart swell a bit when he heard her replying softly.

"I love you as well Mattie… get some sleep as well hero…"


	11. The Bleeding

The older woman watched her younger self in a bit of confusion, most memories of hers that she had witnessed (if not all) had been deep and important points in her life in some way or another but right now she was just watching herself sleeping—not realizing what this was until her younger self woke up.

Amelia was curled up in a ball in her bed- the young personification crying her eyes out. Her lower stomach was in horrible pain and when she had woken up there was blood on her nightgown, her undergarments, and all over the bed sheets.

Not understanding what was happening she screamed when she saw the red mess- motioning frantically when her brother ran in, "Amelia? What's wrong?" seeing the blood all over her bed he ran over, "What happened? Where are you bleeding from?"

Sobbing from the sharp pain, "I don't know- I woke up- and there's blood everywhere- and my stomach really hurts- and Mattie I don't feel good-" confused, scared, and hysterical she hugged her pillow and cried- not having the slightest clue as to what was going on.

The physically thirteen year old boy ran to go get his fathers from the market- Arthur was home for the first time in several weeks, and Francis had come to visit also. Dragging both men back- speaking frantically in French as to what was going on, extremely afraid of his sister being in real danger.

Arthur burst into the room, saw the scene and put all of Amelia's symptoms together. Paling considerably at the sight of her, "No… You're just a little girl… this is much to soon…" seeing her look up at him with confused eyes he tried to put together the reason why she was bleeding so much together but unable to do so. It may have been over one hundred years since he adopted her but she was still too young for this to happen.

Francis looked at Arthur, "You haven't told them about this yet? " sighing and sitting on the bed, pulling the now young woman into his lap and comforting her, realizing that the other personification was a bit too upset to do so.

"Of course I haven't bloody told them yet! They're only what- physically twelve? That's much to young to learn about those things! They're children!" not realizing the strange looks he was getting from both of the children. Looking a bit distressed, "They can't be growing up this fast…. they were just toddlers only yesterday…"

Francis sighed, "You go take Matthew to the living room and explain what's going on to him- I'll handle Amelia yes?" Seeing Matthew and Arthur go to the living room he smiled down at the girl in his lap- gently explaining what was going on and how things were changing in her body. Explaining how to take care of her during these times of the month and what to expect. Leaving so she could get cleaned up and changed, taking her downstairs and making her a cup of the raspberry tea she and her brother enjoyed so much.

Whimpering as she drank it- still in pain and very embarrassed as to what was going on. Not looking any of the men in the room in the eyes until her brother hugged her before sitting down at the table next to her, "We can play inside this week if you'd like… I'm sure there's lots of things we can do." smiling at her happily, ruffling her hair until she laughed, all he wanted was for her to feel better. He really didn't understand what she was going through in full (Arthur had been a bit awkward in explaining it—but from what he had gathered his older sister had started bleeding from between her legs and that meant that she could have children now? He would need to ask Francis about this later for a better explanation.)

Amelia's older self watched with a bit of interest the exchanges between the four that followed. Wondering if anyone knew what was going to happen in just a few years. It was about 1740, in less than forty years she would Declare Independence and all of this would change. She would have to fight against her brother and her father—leaning on Francis, Gilbert and Antonio to win a war to be free from English rule.

She wasn't looking forward to watching that.


	12. Poor Richard

Chapter Eleven

Poor Richard

Amelia walked down the street with her younger self, not really enjoying the walk. The year was 1732 and her past self had already taken up the habit of dressing like a young man much to her father's distaste, cutting her hair quite short, stealing her brother's clothes (Her figure had not "formed" quite yet. There was no need for her to bind her breasts seeing as she quite literally had none). She liked dressing like a boy. People seemed to take her more seriously than they would when she dressed as her real gender.

The young cross dressing woman walked into a building, smiling as she called out for her friend. "Benjamin! Are you home?" straightening her vest, putting on her male persona like a mask once more. "It's me, Felix! I've come to look at the almanac you wanted to show me?" A bit confused the girl wandered about the house for a little bit, eventually finding her friend in the back with his printing press. "Ben! I'm here." Smiling and laughing when the auburn, curly haired man turned around with ink smeared all over his face.

The man stood up and strode across the room, hugging his childhood playmate, who he had only recently outgrown. "How are you doing today Felix? I'm so glad you came. Would you like some tea?" he knew very well that his friend was in fact female, but it had been his idea for her to begin cross-dressing as a man. Knowing that it was unfair but that for her to get taken seriously like she wished to be it would work well if she looked, dressed, spoke, and acted like a man. So far it was working. Benjamin picked up his latest copy off of the printing press, handing it to his childhood friend. "Here you go. It's an almanac to help poor farmers, or just anyone get through the year." Very proud of his creation—he had spent years researching this, wanting very much to help out those in need in any way he could.

Amelia flipped through the book with interest, "Oh my… this is really quite impressive Ben." Flipping to the front and raising an eyebrow "Poor Richard's Almanac? Written by Richard Saunders?" looking at her friend with a fair amount of concern. "You do know your real name is Benjamin Franklin correct? Or have you hit your head on your printing press?" motioning loosely to the contraption in front of her as she continued to look through the book once more.

Ben sighed, "It's a character Felix. If the people reading think that the writer is going through the same thing as them they'll be more likely to listen to what it says." Shaking his head, wondering why his friend had to be so sarcastic all of the time. It really did not fit her. Leading her upstairs and pouring them both a cup of tea, wanting to hear her opinion on the current politics of the time.


	13. Founding Fathers

Chapter Twelve

Founding fathers

Amelia sat around the table, not noticing her older self watch what was going on with interest. She was surrounded by a large group of men, all of them discussing their growing concern with the British who were ruling them. Leaning back in her chair she sighed, brushing a curl out of her eyes. They had found out she was a woman (Or more like she had let it slip after they had taken her to a bar and she had gotten drunk and basically let everything slip much to Benjamin's dismay.) Now dressed as her appropriate gender much to her father's joy Amelia had mixed feelings on the subject. The men had told her that one day she may need to conceal her gender but that day had not quite come as of yet. So for now the young woman was stuck in a corset and petticoats, wearing the dresses her father continued to send in attempts to make up for all of the fights they had been having as of late. The young woman played with the lace on her sleeve of her flowery white and blue dress as she listened to the men prattle on about taxes, and tea, and tariffs, and being under British rule… talking about everything under the sun as it seemed. She was excited however, they allowed her to pipe in with her comments—taking her very seriously as opposed to many of the other men she worked with. They valued her opinion greatly—it was something new to her but something that she really did love. Hearing one of the men say her name she looked up, "I'm sorry George? I was thinking about something else—what did you ask?"

The man frowned a bit at the young woman, his brown hair pulled back into a curled ponytail. "I _said, _Amelia. Do you think if you speak to Mister Kirkland about what we have discussed here will he listen to our grievances? Because it will be much easier to talk to him than send a messenger all the way to the king."

The girl leaned back in her chair a bit, playing with a curl of her hair as she thought. "I can speak to my Father but you need to understand that he's more loyal to the crown than anyone else I've ever met in all of my years. So he may understand and sympathize with us but he won't do anything unless the king agrees with him…" she hated this part of her job. There was so much wrong in the colonies at the moment but no one seemed to listen to their complaints no matter what they did. Shaking her head, Amelia sighed and ran a hand through her hair. The girl took in all of the disappointed faced men and sipped on her tea—hoping that when she spoke to her father he would actually listen this time.


	14. The End of Childhood

The End of Childhood

Chapter Thirteen

Amelia leaned against the wall of her childhood home's kitchen, watching with a sense of dread and pain as the scene before her unfolded.

Her father frowned across at her younger self "For goodness sake Amelia—stop drinking that coffee rubbish. I'm sorry about not being able to lower the tax on tea but that doesn't mean you have to have all of your little friends boycott it—" sipping on his tea and flipping through the newspaper, shaking his head. Things were getting worse and worse here in the American Colonies—he didn't know quite what to do. Amelia was getting more and more rebellious. Looking up over his paper when Amelia stood up from her seat and slammed her hands on the table.

"Dammit Arthur! Stop ignoring me like this! I bring up a valid thing my people need and you ignore it! Do you even care when I bring something up to you?" grabbing the newspaper from his hands and tearing it up, throwing the pieces behind her. "Why won't you treat me like an adult? You're gone for all but three months of the year and you act like you know every single thing that is happening here! You don't know anything about what it's like to live here—" getting more and more frustrated as she carried on ranting—it felt as if he never listened to her and what she said about the colonies and what was needed and wanted. It was is he still saw her as the small child he adopted all those years ago. "I want some respect! I want to be treated as your equal Arthur what is so wrong with that—"

Arthur's eyes narrowed, flashing with anger as she tore the paper from her hand. "Amelia Felicia Jones I will _**not**_ be spoken to like that! I am your father and you will treat me as such! You're just a child anyways you don't know what it's like to be a nation—" hurt by her notion that he didn't know anything Arthur carried on—letting his anger carry him through this. "I'd treat you like an equal or an adult if you acted like one! You sneak out at night to meet with those damn ruffians that want to boot the crown out of the colony! What do you expect me to do? What in the world happened to you? You were such a happy child Amelia—"

The young woman stared at her father for a few moments—hating how this was turning out. She knew what was going to happen. For the past few months her friends had been telling her that if things didn't change, war could end up being necessary. Amelia had done her best to hold onto hope that things could turn out differently, that her father would allow her and her people independence but she could tell the likelihood of that was decreasing everyday. Not hearing her older self cry softly at the scene, not knowing that this moment is exactly where her and her father's relationship would begin to head downhill. "Arthur. I want to be independent." Even through her anger she could see the heartbreak in her father's eyes. She really couldn't blame him, she felt heartbroken too—but this was necessary. This had to happen. She needed to be free. "Not all of the Sons of Liberty are convinced about this but that's what I want… I hope we can work something out peacefully like adults." Walking out of the kitchen, glad her brother wasn't there to see all of this, she walked out of the house and to Benjamin's house, leaving her father in shock and her older self in tears.

((Sorry for such short chapters lately! College is getting a bit hectic and family is too and it's keeping me from writing as long of things as I would like, along with updating more frequently. But the next few should be fairly long compared to these past few so keep an eye out please!))


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